Connor entered the house hand-in-hand with Kiley.  She was so relieved to see him alive, she had promptly thrown herself at him and kissed him.  She was smiling now, if for no other reason than he was okay. There was an unspoken question on Connor's mind as he walked nervously around the corner and up the hall.  Was Murphy alive?  Kiley had described his sacrifice.  If he had died trying to save Kiley, Connor would feel no end of guilt.  He opened the door to their shared room quietly.  Murphy had been arranged carefully on one of the beds.  The steady movement of his breathing was that of sleep.  Connor lay down next to his brother, waving to Kiley, who stood in the doorway.  She closed the door silently, leaving them alone. 

            Kiley found her sister in the bathroom, showering.  She realized how dirty she felt, and remembered that she hadn't showered in three days.  She closed the door behind herself, undressing and climbing in the shower with her sister.  They said nothing, washing first in the stream of water, then embracing one another.  The water ran red with blood, hiding all traces of their tears as they wept.  Neither one had expected things to go quite like they had when they decided to stay.  "I love ya, Ci," Kiley whispered.

            "I love ya too, Ki."  After a long pause, they finally shut the water off and wrapped themselves in towels. 

            "Is Murphy going to make it?" Kiley asked carefully.

            "I hope so."  The girls walked together into the room where the brothers lay.  They tried to be as quiet as possible while they dressed themselves.  Kiley lay down on the other bed for a moment, then shook her head.  Unspoken agreement between them meant that neither was tired.  They instead busied themselves making dinner. 

            "Will we go home?" Kiley asked. 

            "I won', so long as Murph is alive.  'E asked me ta marry him.  So long as 'e breathes, I'm his."  Kiley managed a laugh.

            "That's good news," she replied, trying to feel good about it, but still having trouble.  If he died, she wondered what her sister would do then.  "Ya set a date?"

            "We will," she replied offhandedly, attempting to laugh it off. Kiley set about preparing the cabbage while her sister heated the corned beef in the oven.  They set the table together, trying their best to make it look festive.  Connor came out, perked up by the smell of good food. 

            "How's Murph?" Kiley asked. 

            "Still restin'."  Connor got his hand slapped as he reached for a piece of bread Kiley had cut from the loaf. 

            "That there is for yer brother.  You c'n wait."

            "Keeps goin' on about Ciara in 'is sleep.  Think 'e's relivin' moments."  Kiley nodded sympathetically. 

            "I'm takin' 'im food, seein' if he wants ta eat." Connor and Kiley exchanged glances.  They knew she would be going off alone to have a good cry.  They sat down together at the table, waiting for Papa MacManus to join them.  Smecker had gone home to rest and regroup.  The elder MacManus walked in a few moments later, slumping in his seat. 

            "Let's pray," he drawled.  They linked hands around the table, bowing their heads. 

            "Our father, who art in heaven,

            Hallowed be thy name,

            Thy kingdom come

            Thy will be done

            On Earth as it is in Heaven.

            Give us this day our daily bread,

            And forgive us our trespasses,

            As we forgive those who trespass against us

            And lead us not into temptation,

            But deliver us from evil.

            For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory

            Now and forever.

            Amen."

            "Amen," Kiley and Connor chimed. As they set into the food, they all remained lost in private thought.

            Ciara opened the door as quietly as possible, closing it behind her.  She clicked on the bedside lamp, setting down the plate she had made for Murphy on the table.   When he didn't move, she checked his temperature.  He felt comfortably cool.  She pulled the blankets back, checking his dressing.  The wound had stopped bleeding.  She could tell because the outer layer of bandaging was still white.  She let out a soft sigh of relief before tucking the blankets around him again.  As she made to leave, she felt his hand touching her leg.  His beautiful eyes flickered open, and he smiled crookedly at her.  "How're ya feelin'?" she asked him softly, running her fingers through his hair lovingly. 

            "Better," he replied in a dry voice. 

            "I brought ya some dinner," she told him.  "Let me get ya some water…"

            "Don't leave," he replied, hand closing around her cold fingers.  She bent forward and kissed his brow. 

            "I won'," she answered, breathing him in contentedly.  "Thank you," she whispered, eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

            "For what?"

            "For savin' my sis."  He grunted as he attempted to laugh.  He caught her gaze with his own.  Those eyes twinkled as brilliantly as ever, like mischievous stars.  "I love ya."

            "I love ya too.  Thought fer a second I wasn't gonna get ta see ya in yer weddin' dress."  Ciara blushed furiously, trying hard not to burst into tears.  "I'll make it?"

            "I think so.  Ya don' have fever.  Though I'd recommend against runnin' or anythin' strenuous," she warned as his fingers combed through her unbound hair.

            "Ya need ta leave it down more often," he said absentmindedly.

            "Eat."  She helped him sit up and passed him the plate.  She watched contentedly as he tucked in to the food, sitting back on the other bed with her chin cupped in her hand.  Once she was satisfied he had eaten well, she too the plate and set it aside.  She knelt down beside him and kissed him passionately, the light flavor of the spiced cabbage sweet on his lips.             

            "We should go back ta Ireland for the weddin'.  So our mams c'n see ya in yer weddin' dress too," he continued.  Ciara let him talk himself back to sleep.  She would need flowers, he had always liked daisies, roses were too elegant.  And she would ride off with him on a white horse, and they would tour Rome on their honeymoon…Just thinking about it made her dizzy.  She wondered what Brighid would have thought, getting to wear a lovely dress at her cousin's wedding.  That sent her mind to sad realms of thought, and tears ran unbidden down her cheeks, her slim frame racked with silent, shuddering sobs.  She was glad for the moment of solace.  Even though Murphy was in the room, he'd sleep for a good while, and she was quiet enough not to wake him.  She finally fell asleep on the floor, saline from her tears staining her cheeks. 

            Kiley and Connor were curled together on the couch, bare feet and tangled limbs.  Connor had showered after he had eaten, feeling quite dirty after their ordeal.  They both looked surprisingly decent, despite what had happened to them only hours before.  Kiley had seen to their hurts.  She was no qualified doctor, like her sister, but she did learn enough from Ciara to be dangerous.  Kiley had been studying to become a teacher when they had still lived back in Ireland.  It seemed like that was years ago, in another time.  Only one week had passed since they had decided to stay, but so much had happened. 

            She was dressed in a long, sweeping skirt and a tanktop.  She had used flower-scented shampoo.  Connor breathed her feminine scent happily as he enfolded her in his arms.  Her hair was braided in two perfect plaits, as so many maidens still wore their hair in Ireland.  Her skin was smooth, porcelain-perfect.  His angel.  "Kiley, d'ya think we'd ever 'ave a chance at bein' married?"  Kiley smiled.  Connor didn't have to see her face to know she was smiling. 

            "Connor, my sis teases me all the time 'cause I was savin' myself for ya.  I told 'er the first time I saw ya," she laughed, "at three years old, I was gonna marry ya."  Connor felt his ears burning red with embarrassment.

            "Ya really said that?"

            "Ask Ci.  She'll quote me."  Connor pulled her into his lap, meeting her eyes. 

            "I…D'ya feel like we're movin' too fast?"  Kiley sat up, suddenly sobered.

            "Connor, in our line of work, we never know if we'll make it another day.  Better ta 'ave loved an' married early than never loved at all."  Connor nodded, caught up in the truth behind her words.  She was right.  He had always felt like he had nothing to lose, nothing to live for save his holy quest to wipe out evil.  But he realized that they had missed out on a lot until the women came.  His father had said that the women's visit would be good for them.  He was right.  "I don' care if we 'ave a ring or not, Con.  I love ya."  She kissed him sweetly, pulling away for a moment. 

            "Kiley?" Connor asked apprehensively.  He set her on the cushion next to him and dropped to the floor.

            "Yes?"

            "Will ya do me the honor of marryin' me?"  Kiley blushed from head to toe. 

            "Of course."  She threw her arms around his neck, feeling the fierce tenderness of his kiss overwhelm her. 

            "Whoo!" Connor whooped, beside himself with excitement. 

            "What?" Murphy groaned from down the hall.

            "Sorry, Murph, I was just happy about my fiancée marryin' me," Connor returned loudly.

            "Really?  Me too!" he shouted in return, wincing as his wound stung from the sudden bellow of his own voice.  Ciara stirred slightly, but did not wake.  Murphy dragged himself upright using his elbows and looked down at her.  He wondered what she had been crying about.  Throwing his better judgment to the winds, he sat all the way up. After a moment of gathering his courage, he managed to get to his feet.  The wound was very painful, but he was careful not to strain it as he knelt beside her in his boxers.  He brushed Ciara's hair from her face, hearing her sigh softly.  "Ci?"

            She opened her eyes, disoriented for a moment.  When Murphy's face came into focus, she realized where she was.

            "What're ya doin' out o' bed?" she chided, sitting up suddenly.

            "What're ya doin' on the floor?" he returned.  "Ya should be up there wi' me."  She broke into a wide grin, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him.

            Two days later, Ciara finally gave Murphy the okay to be out of bed.  He walked carefully, a shuffle to his step.  Kiley, Murphy, and Connor were gathered around the kitchen table, playing a mean game of cards.  Kiley was showing everyone up, hitting the whiskey the most out of anyone.  Connor would laugh every time she beat him out, exchanging glances with his brother.  They had all temporarily forgotten the weight of their work, and spent the time enjoying their lives.  "So, what did yer mam say?" Connor asked Ciara as she hung up the phone and glided into the kitchen. 

            "She's not surprised.  Said her an' Da had put together a goodly amount of savings toward our weddin's.  She insists we go home to be married."

            "I'd have guessed as much," Murphy teased, grabbing her wrist and dragging her into his lap.  He kissed her before dealing the cards. 

            "Has anyone seen Da today?" Connor asked them suddenly, brow immediately furrowed with worry.

            "Now that ya mention it, no."  Murphy looked out into the living room, past Kiley's shoulder.  It was empty.  No one had really thought much if Papa MacManus disappeared for an hour or so at a time, but all day was truly unusual. 

            "He hasn't looked well the past few days," Kiley remarked.  This comment made Ciara stiffen in Murphy's arms. What if he had done something foolish?  She knew he wanted to die fighting or kill himself before the cancer did.  Was he somewhere in the middle of a battle he knew he couldn't win?

            "Ci?  Ciara?"  Murphy asked her gently, his fingers trailing softly down her arm.

            "Eh?"

            "Are ya a'right, Darlin'?"  She nodded absentmindedly, trying to put such thoughts from her mind.  But then, it did make sense.

            "Is there somethin' you wanna tell us?" Connor asked, seeing the undertone of panic in her emerald eyes. 

            "I canna," she replied, looking down at her hands to keep from crying.  Kiley looked at her sympathetically.  "I could go lookin' for 'im," she said finally.

            "Why don't we all go?" Kiley, suggested.  "If we're all tha' worried…"

            "Why can't ya tell us?" Connor asked, shaking her by her shoulders.  Murphy knocked his hands away when she still said nothing. 

            "Leave her be.  Let's go look."  He was worried about Ciara, but knew she would have told them something if she felt it necessary.  She shook her head helplessly, heading for the front door.  She hadn't even rounded the corner when realization dawned on her.  She broke into a run, Murphy, Kiley, and Connor calling after her.  She glanced back at them one more time before bursting into a flat sprint and cocking her gun as she ran.  She knew where he would be.  She could hear three sets of footsteps behind her, one more uneven than the others.  Murphy was running.  She'd have to chide him later.  If Ciara's suspicions were correct, Papa MacManus would be storming the courthouse to finish off the Cassini family.  It was essentially as suicide mission without the Boston Police being aware of it.  She threw her gun over the metal detector, which was unmanned, rolling on the ground to catch it before it went off.  She raced up the steps to the balcony, hearing the shouts of terrified women.  She knew he was behind them.  Changing her mind about being caught with her gun out, she hid it in her waistband, creeping up to the back doors and peering around the corner.  The sight that greeted her was unexpected.  Among the marble and oak panels of the courtroom, mass murder had taken place.  Despite the several bodies dressed in the unmistakably lavish finery of the Cassinis littering the ground, many bystanders lay dead.  She wondered what had transpired.  When the room fell silent  in a few seconds, the unbearable feeling of unease settled in the pit of her stomach.  She looked down over the courtroom, finding things were worse than she had feared.  There, on the cold tile of the floor, Papa MacManus stared up at her through sightless eyes.  There was no spark of life to speak of.  Still, his body convulsed with the painful coughing of his blood. 

            "Da! No!" Connor screamed from over her shoulder.  She felt him collapse in agony, heard the clatter of furniture overturning as Murphy incurred his wrath upon them.  Kiley said nothing, but stood there with tears in her eyes, arms crossed.  Ciara alone stood dry-eyed, watching the grief of the brothers with guilt in her heart.  She should have told them.  Murphy and Connor were leaning on one another for support.  Ciara glanced at her sister, dropping to her knees.

            "And shepherds we shall be

            For Thee, my Lord, for Thee

            Power hath descended forth from thine hand

            That our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command

            So we shall flow a river forth to Thee,

            And teeming with souls shall it ever be.

            In Nomine Patris, Et Filii, Et Spiritus Sancti."  She crossed herself before gathering the strength to return to her feet.

            "Let's go, afore they find us 'ere," Kiley said for her.  She didn't know what involvement her sister had in this disaster, but she knew the reason was likely a good one.  The girls supported the men in stoic silence.  Connor was staring daggers at Ciara.

            "What d'you know?  Ya have ta be hidin' things from us!  Ya knew!" he shouted angrily.  Ciara knew it was his grief driving him to anger, not his heart.

            "Yer da asked me ta keep quiet about somethin' for 'im," she replied.  "I dinna know where he was goin' today.  It was a lucky guess.  But I do know why 'e did."

            "Why's that?" Murphy pleaded with her, red-rimmed eyes meeting her own.  His sadness stung her heart.

            "Yer da was dyin'.  O' lung cancer.  He knew I'd advise 'im ta go ta treatment, an' he couldn't cope.  He tol' me 'e'd rather go down fightin', an' not ta tell anyone.  He knew I'd know when 'e 'ad an episode, me bein' a doctor.  I was keepin' my word by not tellin' ya.  Ya have ta understand.  I knew 'e'd do somethin' foolish that was suicidal.  An' this was my first guess when I saw the pretrial announcement in the news earlier.  Ya 'ave to understand, I wanted ta tell ya…"  Ciara sped up her pace to be away from them.  Disapproval was too painful for her to bear, especially from the only family she had left.  She had dealt with it all her life, thinking she was in the right.  This moment made her wonder. 

            "Ciara, wait," Connor called to her.  "Ya did right.  I never woulda been able ta keep that ta myself.  Says a lot about ya."  Connor managed a meek smile.  "D'ya think 'e was suffering?"

            "It's hard ta say.  Yer da was a tougher man than any I know.  'Cept maybe 'is sons," she said for their benefit, smiling.  "He wanted it this way."

            "It was kind o' ya ta say our family prayer for 'im," Murphy said quietly, drawing her into his embrace. 

            "So, what now?" Kiley asked, walking more slowly to catch her breath.  "The Cassini family is dead."  None of them said anything for a long while.  Even after they had entered the house and sat down on the floor in a circle, no one felt much like talking.  Connor suddenly burst into a coughing fit.  Ciara wondered if he was in his right mind. 

            "We go ta Ireland," he declared, looking to them all for approval.  "Ta put a marker where Da woulda been laid ta rest, an' ta see our families.  Let's go home."  No one seemed to disagree.  After another long silence, everyone went to pack their things for the journey, one word on their minds: Home.